


Battle Scars

by godgaypeen



Category: Louden Swain - Fandom, Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: F/M, i just really miss writing fanfiction, this is all imported from Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 09:57:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16890387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godgaypeen/pseuds/godgaypeen
Summary: You go to a con and unleash your singing capabilities, attracting the attention of a certain lead singer of your favourite band





	Battle Scars

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is dont-hate-relate-pls from Tumblr and I'm moving most of my work to ao3 because... well, I like this site.

Friday, the start of the best weekend of your life.

Or so you thought, as you slammed your small, balled-up fists against the steering wheel of your dad’s Chevy Impala in absolute frustration. Nothing screamed ‘SUPERNATURAL FANGIRL’ than driving that particular model of vehicle, but how could you resist such a beauty if your father had one in his garage, otherwise unused and left to rust? A motorcyclist angrily beeped past you and gave you the finger, as if you could do anything to make way for the guy in this ridiculous traffic. You were stuck in a traffic jam, for fuck’s sake! 

“I can  _not_  be late for con.” You groaned as your car inched forward slightly. 

Pulling the long sleeves of your flannel (a nod to the Winchester trademark fashion), you popped up the casing that kept your most treasured possession: an autographed copy of Louden Swain’s A Brand New Hurt, and placed it into the CD slot. Soon, the start of the first song, Better, filled the confines of your car as you tried not to be late for the convention. 

* * *

“And to your left, you will see a latecomer in flannel!” joked Richard Speight Jr, and the other con-goers laughed at his comment, some turning to look at you as you awkwardly tried to find your seat.. Flushing bright red at being noticed for tardy, you made your way to your seat, aware of eyes on you, since you were the only latecomer as everyone else didn’t have to brave through the traffic like you did. As you sat, a smile crept up your face, replacing earlier embarrassment. Nothing made your life feel better and secure than a convention. The atmosphere can be hectic at times but hey, in a room full of girls (and guys) that loved the show and its cast as much as you did, a little noise didn’t hurt. After all, these people, even if you’ve never talked or are practically strangers to each other, were family to you. 

You broke from your trance as Richard continued, before introducing the first guest, and so went your day; panels, autograph sessions, photo ops, with various cast members. 

* * *

 

Fast forward to Rob’s photo op session. For you, a photo op with Rob Benedict might as well be the best thing to ever happen to you. Not only was he an easy-going, passionate and obviously attractive guy, he was also  _mega_  talented, with a belt of various acting roles, and of course, the vocals to the best band in the world, Louden Swain. In short, you didn’t mind spending so much for a meager picture, since it was Rob- _freaking_ -Benedict. He was worth every dollar. 

You sent multiple pictures of the line to your best friend, who unfortunately, wasn’t on the Supernatural train, but at least she understood how much meeting him again meant to you. After a few minutes of back-and-forth texting, you were finally at the front of the line. When the girl in front of you was done, you were allowed entrance. Shooting a brief smile at the photographer, who had agreed to spend a weekend doing photo ops, you turned your attention to the 5′8, actor-slash-singer Rob Benedict. “(Y/N)! Is that you?” He exclaimed, and you froze. 

“Hi…” You mumbled, suddenly shy.  _He…he remembered you?_  You met him a year back at the exact same convention, and he had complimented your shirt among other things, but you hadn’t thought you were someone unforgettable to someone who met thousands of people at a time. “You remembered me.” You murmured softly.

“Of course I did!” Rob said, genuinely surprised at your reaction. “How could I forget someone like you?” He added, pulling you into a hug. In those few seconds of being in his strong, surprisingly beefy arms, you felt safe, as if nothing was going to hurt you anymore. 

Pulling away, Rob asked, “Did you follow through with what I asked you to do last year?” Suddenly, too stunned to speak, you just nodded silently, tears sliding down your cheeks as you were reminded of what you went through the previous year. Rob was the reason you stopped cutting yourself after he saw one of your recent scars at the time. He made you swear that when you came back for future cons, you would’ve already stopped. And you did. Because even when Rob started to tear up at the sight of the lines marring your previously smooth arm, you knew if you came back with new ones, it would probably break the man’s heart, so you promised to try.

Relieved, the actor pulled you into another hug, this time longer and more intimate. Jared Padalecki may be the ultimate huggy bear, but undoubtedly, Rob won for the best hugs given out. “Oh right, so what pose are we doing?”

* * *

The next few hours was filled with more panels and autograph sessions, which made you go nuts. Not to mention the photo ops you had with the other cast members, all of which made your wallet thin and your heart swollen with happiness. Then Karaoke night happened, which left you with unnecessary amounts of grinning at even the slightest thought for days after. The night was super exciting as you managed front row, singing onstage that night. You were incredibly nervous as you were afraid to fuck up Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah, a fan favourite to sing, since Rob and Jason Manns have sang that particular song in previous conventions (beautifully, you might add). Oh, and did you mention the fact that you were singing in front of a  _lot_  of people? 

Everything started out great, Misha Collins wreaking havoc, Rob, Richard and Matt being dorks with microphones, and everyone having a great time. You knew most of the songs and you enthusiastically sang along, until your turn came. “(Y/N)? Where are you, (Y/N)?” Matt Cohen called out, and you waved at him to alert him of your presence. “(Y/N), hi, there you are! Come up, don’t be shy.” He helped you up to the stage, grinning the entire time. 

“Does anyone agree that (Y/N) is a  _beautiful_  name?” Richard said, and the crowd, hyper and giddy with excitement, cheered in reply, which made you blush. 

“Hey.” Rob said, appearing right beside you, handing you a microphone. You told him thanks, and he smiled. “Great song choice, by the way. You’ll do great!” Still smiling, you nodded at his encouragement, just as your song started. 

“C’mon everyone, you know this song! Sing along!” Misha yelled into the microphone, his phone out, probably doing a livestream. 

You were relieved when Matt joined you in the first verse, but even more so as Rob’s amazing voice chimed in for the chorus, sending goosebumps down your arms as his voice rang through the room, and everyone else sang along. At one point during the song, both Misha and Rich had their arms around you, squishing you into a sandwich. Suddenly, the song was over, and you were ushered down the stage after hugs and cheek-kissing. 

Around another 45 minutes of bobbing up and down enthusiastically, simultaneously destroying your voice box, the night had come to an end, and you were among the last to leave he venue. A few fellow fans had come up to you and praised you for your talent in singing, to which you replied with a shy murmur of thanks. Singing had always been a passion of yours, and you were glad you had a chance to mould both your singing and Supernatural, your two biggest passions, into one that night.

Just as you were headed to your Impala (which raised a few remarks from nearby fans) in the parking lot, you halted at the sound of your name being called out. Turning, you saw Rob jogging towards you. You stopped, waiting for him to catch up. “Hey. I was afraid you left already.” 

“You caught me just in time.” You grinned. “What’s up?” You tried not to freak out by the fact that Rob Benedict wanted to personally meet you for god knows what. Either way, your heart beat a little faster as he focused his blue eyes on you.  _What could such a guy like him possibly want from little old me?_  You wondered. 

“You…you were absolutely mind-blowing back there. I’m surprised you’re not some world-famous artist, like…a cooler Taylor Swift or somebody.” His compliment made you giggle. “Then again, why would a big-shot singer like you come to a convention for a nobody from a lesser-known band like me?”

Grinning, you played along. “Well, when I have my own world tour, you guys are gonna be my band!” Your statement earned a hearty laugh from the actor. “In all seriousness though, you are pretty great as both a singer and an actor.” You refrained from adding that he was practically the most talented man in the world to you, but it was true, in your case. 

“So would you, if you ever decided to sing as a professional artist.” Rob said, looking down shyly.  _Oh god I want to hug this man so badly._  “Have you ever considered a career in music?” 

“Considered? Hell yes. Acted on said notion? No.” You said, trying not to overreact. He had the tone of a man with a proposal, and you were itching for him to get to his point. “Why?” 

“Well…would you like to do a song with Louden Swain?” 

 

 

 

 


End file.
